


30 Day NSFW Sterek Challenge

by mandylynn4



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 30 Day NSFW Challenge, Alive Allison Argent & Vernon Boyd & Erica Reyes, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bottom Derek Hale/Top Stiles Stilinski, Canon-Typical Violence, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Graphic Description, Hurt/Comfort, I am not so good at the smut, M/M, Minor Allison Argent/Isaac Lahey/Scott McCall, Outdoor Sex, Past Sexual Abuse, Post-Season/Series 04 Finale, Rimming, Semi-Public Sex, Shipping Inc, Shower Sex, Switching, Top Derek Hale/Bottom Stiles Stilinski, mentions past Stalia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-03-09 20:05:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 18,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13488795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandylynn4/pseuds/mandylynn4
Summary: The rules are simple: take the daily prompt, apply to an OTP, and post.  BUT, my RL sucked lemons this past month, so I'm pretty far behind.  Instead, I'll post each as a chapter and we will see how far I get today.  They are meant to be short, drabble type chapters.  I apologize if they're not long enough for your liking.  :(  I tend to write connected slice-of-life type scenarios......if that makes sense?This is my second attempt at Sterek and I've got to admit that my smut game isn't strong.  Oh....and the Sheriff's name is John.  None of that canonical Noah crap.  Unbetaed challenge fic.This is a slice-of-life type story with ficlets for chapters.  Stiles and Derek have a start of a relationship at the beginning of this story.  Since this is a NSFW challenge, there will be smutty parts and PWP parts.





	1. Foreplay

The quiet darkness of the preserve is pierced by a rough voice. "Hale!" A rogue wolf stands near the walking path, eyes glittering in the dark.

Derek growls subvocally at the taller wolf, but steps forward from his place in the pack. Scott steps forward with him. "Mitchem."

"I see you brought your playthings along," the wolf in front of them laughs. "I didn't feel it necessary to bring mine. I mean, this is just a peace talk, right?"

"Your idea of peace and my own are very different things," Derek bristles. 

"Adorable. The only difference is that I will get my peace when you and yours are dead." Mitchem flicks one hand. More wolves peer out from behind the trees. "We want this land for our own, Hale. You can't stop us. Not with that pathetic group of imbeciles you call a pack. And definitely not since you've been gone so long." Wolves begin stepping forward into the moonlight. Each one's golden eyes shine brightly with excitement. There's at least ten, maybe fifteen. 

Derek fights the twinge of adrenaline that causes the shift. He struggles to remember what his mother would have said in this situation. "This is Hale land. There will be no other than Hales upon it." 

Scott is panting beside him, claws extended but face still human-like. "We can't hold them off much longer," he whispers, eyeing the pacing wolves in front of them. 

Derek can sense his panic rising and he clenches his own fists to keep from losing control. "I know. Is Allison here yet?"

Scott scents the air, subtly. "Can't tell." He scents again, more deeply. "Maybe. Off to the left?"

Derek takes his own breath. "Yeah. Good." He casts a look behind him at the rest of the pack. "We don't move until we get the signal," he reminds them. The pack nods, but Derek can sense their unease. He grits his teeth. "C'mon, _c'mon_ ," he mutters under his breath. He sees Mitchem twitch, preparing to launch himself into an attack, and he curses under his breath. He hears his clothing tear as the shift starts, but he pays it no mind. His senses have changed, tuned into more primitive things that he usually keeps buried deep inside. He leaps out of the way as Mitchem rushes forward and smirks in his mind at the other wolf's confusion at his new shape. 

"Full shift, bitch," Scott says haughtily. "Our Alpha's got it and you don't." His own face morphs with the shift and he howls before running towards the pack in the trees.

He doesn't get far before bright lights and skidding tires fill the darkness. Derek glances over at the sound as he dodges Mitchem's claws. He prances away playfully and stops in front of the jeep. Stiles and Lydia tumble out of the squeaky doors. "We're here," Stiles gasps out awkwardly. 

"You're in trouble now," Erica warns, hands full of female werewolf and teeth bared. She instantly drops the other wolf and presses both fists to her ears. 

Each of the Hale pack does the same, including Stiles. Derek ducks his head between his paws. Lydia clears her throat demurely, then screams.

Wolves whine and growl, a few running off into the trees. Mitchem recovers quickly, though, striding forward to shove a hand over Lydia's mouth. "A banshee? You have a fucking _banshee_ in your pack?" 

Derek turns his canine head one way, then the other in fake innocence. Mitchem doesn't even have time to process the sound of the silver arrow piercing his chest before he's pitching forward onto Lydia. Hes still breathing, though, so Stiles kicks out a foot and shoves the werewolf away, then dusts his hands on his pants. "Anyone else?"

Mitchem's pack is gone within seconds and Derek feels the relief from all his pack members immediately. He leans over Mitchem's prone body and growls. The other werewolf whines and flinches, unconscious. Satisfied, Derek jumps into the jeep through the open door and shifts back to his human form. He wraps the ratty blanket from the backseat around his waist before stepping out. "That was too easy," he mutters. 

Beside him, Stiles is biting his bottom lip and shoving his hands in his pockets. "Uh..."

"What?"

"You didn't think to bring spare clothes?"

"Didn't expect to be ruining the ones I had on," Derek says gloomily. "What took you so long?"

"Had a little trouble with Roscoe," Stiles admits, blushing. 

"Next time, just take Lydia's car." Derek brushes past Stiles, smiling inwardly at the spike of arousal he can smell coming off the other man. "And remind me to stash some clothes in her trunk."

"Definitely," Stiles breathes. He tugs at a corner of the blanket, laughing when Derek's cheeks redden. "Can't have you catching cold now can we?" 

"Oh, jeez," Erica rolls her eyes. "If you two are done flirting now...."

"It's called foreplay, Erica. Look it up," Stiles admonishes, then slaps a hand over his mouth. "Ooops."

Derek freezes. All pack eyes are on the two of them. He rubs a hand on the back of his neck. "So, I've been back in town for a few days," he admits quietly. 

Scott balks. "And you didn't tell us?"

"He told _Stiles_ ," Boyd says.

"Uh..."

"Can we maybe talk about this when Derek's not standing in the middle of the preserve with just a blanket around his waist?"

"Amen!" Stiles ushers Derek towards his jeep, nervously laughing. "Next time you see him, he'll be fully clothed. Okay?" 

The pack stares at the jeep as it retreats into the darkness. "That was weird," Scott says.


	2. Kissing (naked)

Stiles has been good. He's kept his hands to himself and his eyes on the road all the way back to the loft. It's more difficult when he has to follow Derek into the elevator, but he busies himself with sending a quick mass text message to the rest of the pack promising more explanations tomorrow. Finally, though, they're safely inside the loft and Derek drops the blanket as he stalks towards the bedroom. 

Stiles doesn't have a lot of willpower left. Especially when faced with the muscles of Derek's backside on display.

"Uh....I'll just wait down here then," he calls, turning back to his phone. 

"So, you're not coming up then?" 

Stiles's mouth goes dry and his phone is forgotten as he launches himself towards the staircase. They make it to the bedroom in record time. 

Derek's hands are cupping Stiles's face and he brings their lips together in almost desperation. "Foreplay, huh?" he asks between kisses. 

Stiles blushes. "Full shift does things to me," he admits. 

"Really?" 

"God, yeah."

Derek hums into his mouth and presses him back against the wood of the door, fingers working at the buttons on Stiles's shirt. Soon, he's shoving the flannel off Stiles's body and is reaching for the t-shirt. Stiles pauses, shuddering. Derek can sense the panic rising in the other man's body.

"Uh....are we-?"

"We don't have to-"

"Not that I don't want to-"

Derek groans and rocks his hips forward, rubbing deliciously against Stiles's hip. "Yeah?"

"It's just....it's only been a few days since you got back and really just a couple of days since we decided this was a thing and I'm not sure-"

"Stiles...."

"I mean, I'm technically not a virgin anymore because of the whole Malia thing but..."

"Stiles."

"And you're naked and really gunning for _me_ to be naked, which is like a wet dream come true, but..."

Derek sighs and kisses Stiles to keep words from escaping. When he's satisfied that he's calmed the younger man down, he pulls away from him and heads towards his dresser. He rifles through a drawer, finds a pair of sweatpants, and tugs them on. "Relax," he says over his shoulder. "Your virginity is safe with me."

Stiles gapes at him, mouth still tingling from kissing. "It's not that I don't want to...with you....it's just..."

Derek smiles softly and gathers Stiles into his arms. He presses a chaste kiss on his lips. "I understand. Taking it slow. Movie?"

Stiles lets out a deep breath. "Yeah. Movie sounds good."


	3. First Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Okay, y'all. We're going to pretend that at the end of Season 4, which is where we go canon-divergence, that Malia and Stiles broke up after Mexico. M'kay? M'kay. On to the porn!

They make it halfway through the movie before Stiles falls asleep, mouth open and delicate snores filling the room. Derek closes his eyes and breathes deeply. Stiles smells like the preserve, woodsy and sharp, but also slightly sweet. When they'd first met, Stiles had always had a sugary scent emanating from his body. Derek assumes it had to do with innocence and teenage hormones. Before he'd left with Braeden, Stiles had a deeper fragrance - like that of dark chocolate or almond. Now, the scent is changing and Derek's mouth waters at the layers of fragrance the boy is acquiring. Cinnamon and whiskey... Stiles groans a bit and the scent of arousal permeates Derek's nose. Inside, his wolf whines. _Slow,_ he tells himself. _Stiles wants to take this slow._ He shakes his head to clear it and coughs loudly enough to wake Stiles.

Stiles shifts beside him on the sofa, left hand sliding down and landing against Derek's thigh. "Derek?" he murmurs. 

"You ready to go home? I can drive you if you're too tired..."

"Wha' time 'sit?"

"About 1:30."

Stiles jerks to awareness, blinking owlishly at his phone as he sits up straight. "Oh, god. Dad's gonna kill me."

"Scott's got you covered. He texted a while back. He also mentioned you owing him one later." Derek waves his own phone at Stiles. "But I can drive you home if you want. Or follow you at least."

"I....I think I want to stay here," Stiles says, voice low but somewhat surprised. "I mean, if that's okay with you."

Derek swallows against the sudden dryness in his mouth. "Yeah. I'll take the couch."

"No."

"No?"

Stiles bites his bottom lip nervously. "I'm not going to lie to you, Derek, because I literally can't. So here it is." He takes a breath and turns to him, eyes dark. "I'm absolutely petrified about this. I've never been so out of my league and that includes anything that might have happened with Malia or werewolves or Nemetons or, shit, anything else in my entire life. But, I'm mostly scared that this will happen and that you'll take off again or this will fizzle out after we've started...you know?"

Derek purses his lips. "Stiles-"

"No, wait. I've gotta put this all out there before we keep going. I started my last relationship with confusion and unclear expectations. That's not going to happen this time. I need to know that if we do this," he feels his cheeks darken at the thoughts within his head, "it's not just a sex thing. It's not just a convenient body for both of us to get off with." Stiles holds up a hand when Derek goes to speak. "I'm not asking for anything more than honesty here, Derek. I want to know that even if it's a friends with benefits arrangement that we're upfront about that right away. I can't know when you're just giving me lip service, either. No werewolfy powers here. I need to know the truth before we go any further. You owe me that much."

Derek nods his head. "This thing between us isn't just a physical attraction, Stiles. I see you." He takes Stiles's hand in his own. "You're the heart of this pack and believe me when I say that you are one of the most important reasons I came back to Beacon Hills. Braeden, Jennifer, Kate? They all used me for my strength and my body. It's hard for me to trust. But you?" Derek tugs Stiles closer to him, his other hand reaching over to cup Stiles's face gently. "Believe me when I say this is infinitely different. I know you've got my back and I've got yours. We're in this together - whatever that means."

Stiles ducks his head sheepishly, letting out a breath. "Men overboard - deep water, Hoss." 

Derek smiles at the break in seriousness. "I'm not interested in taking this any faster than you're ready for."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Then take me to bed, Derek."

~*~

Derek finds that when they're rocking together, pants removed but Stiles's boxers still on, he can sense both the pungent musk of arousal and the acrid tang of panic whenever he rolls his body on Stiles's. He's not pushing and he's not forcing anything that Stiles doesn't seem to be enjoying, so it stalls his own hormones momentarily when the scent hits his nose again. "Everything okay?" he pants out, eyes searching the younger man's face expectantly. 

Stiles stills. "Everything's good. More than good. Fantastic."

Derek quirks an eyebrow at the lie.

"I'm just...this part is new."

"Yeah. We can stop if-"

"No!" Stiles's eyes widen. "God, no. I don't want to stop. I just-"

"You can tell me."

"I've never been with a guy, so..."

"Have you ever thought about...."

"Yeah," Stiles breathes, hips rocking forward of their own accord. "Of course. I mean, there've been dreams...."

"Of?"

"You, you narcissist." Stiles playfully slaps at Derek's chest. "But there's not been any, uh, contact with, you know..."

Derek feels the wolf inside preen and prance at the thought of Stiles being untouched for him, but he nods his head evenly and slowly. "Ohhhh."

"Yeah, oh." Stiles's face is red. "You're a big guy. And there might be some sort of weird thing with being held down right now? It's all really fucking confusing..."

"You don't have to be on the bottom, Stiles."

Stiles's head whips up. "What?"

"I said," Derek murmurs, face tucked into Stiles's neck, "you don't have to bottom."

"Yeah, but-"

Derek grabs at Stiles's hips and yanks him on top of him, seating him firmly atop his waist. "There's lube in my top drawer. Want me to-"

"Can I?"

"Fuck, yes."

Stiles scrambles for the lube, shoving at his boxers at the same time. "Fuck," he curses when he finally gets completely naked and their bodies roll together bare for the first time. "You know it's been like almost six months since I've done this with another person, right?"

Derek doesn't, but he nods anyway. "Been a bit longer for me," he admits. "But I've been a bit more liberal with figuring out what feels good." He watches Stiles's flushed cock twitch at the thought of him touching himself there and he bites back a groan.  
"Just..." He opens his legs and hisses when Stiles's cock slides past his balls with the next roll of hips. "Take it easy."

Stiles lets out a nervous laugh. "Sure. Easy." He squirts lube into one hand, running a finger from the other hand through it. He watches Derek's face as he nudges his legs up out of the way and presses his fingertip inside. "Holy shit," he curses when Derek's eyes close tightly and his head tips back against the pillows. "I can't..."

"Can't?"

"I can't look at you right now. This is not what I imagined."

"Not?"

"Better," Stiles says, face buried in his thigh. Derek pants as Stiles gently pushes farther in. He's slow and gentle. Tentative thrusts of those long fingers leave Derek harder than before, cock wet at the tip. 

"More."

Stiles slides a second finger in alongside the first, eyes now fixated on the drooling cock in front of his face. He gives it an experimental lick. "Next time," he whispers, "I'm going to take you apart with my mouth."

"Fuck, Stiles...."

Stiles curls his fingers and watches as Derek's cock thickens even farther. "How many-"

"That's enough. Fuck, that's enough for now."

"Thank God," Stiles groans. He slithers up Derek's body and claims his mouth in a hungry kiss. One hand is working more lube and a condom on his cock and one is stroking lightly against Derek's ribs. He places the head at Derek's entrance and pauses, applying only light pressure. "Ready?" he asks against Derek's lips.

Derek doesn't speak, but arches his back enough that the head slips inside him, and he lets loose a punched out sound from his chest. Every muscle in his body is tight, his eyes wide open but unseeing. The scent of Stiles around him takes on a citrus aroma and he fights his own body to relax, to keep Stiles from panicking. "Don't stop," he hisses. His hands slip slide around Stiles's waist to urge him forward.

Slowly, Stiles works his way inside, pausing and checking Derek's face with each move forward. At last, he's flush with Derek, completely seated inside of the werewolf, and he licks at Derek's lips to gain access. They kiss for endless moments. He waits, though, like he remembers from being with Malia, for that moment of loosening from within. Thankfully, with Derek, he can at least gauge his pleasure externally. He can feel Derek's cock pulsing to the beat of his heart against his stomach. Finally, he feels Derek take a shuddery breath and the compression around him releases incrementally. He trembles as he tries valiantly to stay still just a little bit longer. 

"I didn't realize-fuck, Stiles, you're going to kill me."

"In a good way, right?"

"Fuck, yeah." 

Derek's hips undulate beneath him and Stiles whines. He presses their foreheads together, looking into Derek's eyes. "You feel amazing. You know this isn't going to last very long, right?"

Derek kisses him then and Stiles can feel the tips of pointed claws at his back, just scraping and adding a tiny sharp bite to each thrust. He stays with short, shallow thrusts to get Derek accustomed to him moving inside him and to buy himself time to finish. It's on the fifth thrust that his elbow buckles and he's accidentally jerking forward more deeply. He pauses in concern as Derek gasps. "Are you-"

"Oh, right the fuck there, Stiles," Derek puffs out. "Keep going, but that's..."

Stiles's mouth goes dry. He carefully slides back and then aims for the same spot, with the same intensity. He's pleased when Derek moans loudly again, cock blurting wet and sticky against his stomach. "That's so fucking hot, Derek. How hard you are for me. How loud..." He licks a path up Derek's neck and bites down on his earlobe on the next hard thrust. Derek whines again, grasping at him in desperation. "I'm not sure how much longer I can-"

Derek doesn't even make it another full thrust before he's howling, eyes blazing red and chest pinking up with exertion. His cock bounces in the air and Stiles watches as Derek comes across his chest in thick, white stripes. He can't watch for long, though, because Derek's insides are clamping down on him and he's left stuttering and sobbing with the force of his own orgasm. He mouths laguidly at Derek's neck as he comes down. Warm arms circle his back, now claw free. 

"I think you killed me."

Derek chuckles. "I hope not." He presses a kiss to Stiles's sweaty head. "I'm kind of looking forward to what you talked about earlier."

Stiles raises his head in confusion. "Huh?"

"Taking me apart with your mouth." Derek traces Stiles's bottom lip with a thumb, eyes glittering with lust. "I should have realized that you'd be a talker."

"Pretty much a given."

"We should probably sleep." Stiles goes to move away, but Derek pulls him closer. "Stay," he whispers. His face is begging and soft. 

Stiles nuzzles his head into Derek's neck and breathes out. "Maybe next time we can try it the other way, too. I mean, that looked....like you enjoyed it."

Derek hums. "Next time."


	4. Blowjob

Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski  
Teen Wolf  
Rated E

It's a quiet two days, save for Scott texting him for an explanation and then accosting him at school when he doesn't reply. He tells Scott the truth, though - that he and Derek are in it together for as long as it will allow and it's definitely _not_ just a sex thing. Scott and the rest of the pack seem generally accepting of the whole thing, which is nice. Malia is the only person who seems affronted when she's told - and that's just because apparently, Stiles smells like _Derek's_ now. Erica explains that it's difficult for a once rogue wolf to give up the claim on what was once hers, even if she left it for the taking. Otherwise, it's quiet. Derek's busy working on tracking down Mitchem to make sure he's truly out of Beacon Hills and there just hasn't been time for next time....

So, with nothing much going on, Stiles indulges in a much-needed study session. He's up to his elbows in calculus when his phone chirps, then rings shrilly. He curses, but answers when he sees that it's Scott.

"Dude, I'm in the middle of-"

"Stiles? Are you okay?"

Scott's voice is high and shaking and it sends Stiles into alert pretty quickly. "Yeah, dude. I'm fine. What's wrong?"

"Nothing, er....just stay inside, okay?"

Stiles frowns as Scott ends the call abruptly. "Yeah, that's not gonna happen," he mutters to himself. He peers out his bedroom window but sees nothing amiss, so he crosses to his father's bedroom window to check the front of the house. Derek's Camaro is haphazardly parked across their front lawn, driver's side door open wide and engine apparently still running. Lydia's car is on the street, but Stiles can't see who's inside of it because it's surrounded by a group of werewolves. They're rocking the sedan on its wheels. "Shit." 

He strides back to his bedroom, grabbing his baseball bat from behind his closet door. In seconds, he's on his front porch, surveying the scene. Boyd, Erica, and Isaac are pacing the perimeter of the lawn, fangs and claws exposed. He can see Allison in Lydia's car, talking furiously into her cell phone. Lydia sits with green eyes wide, but unafraid. Scott is backing away from three larger wolves, teeth bared. Stiles can't see Derek.

"Where's Derek?"

"I told you to stay inside," Scott hisses at him from between the three growling werewolves on the grass. 

"That's honestly the worst thing you could say to me to keep me in my house, dumb ass." There's a thump behind him and he whirls around to see another wolf on the porch, advancing quickly. "Who are these goons, anyway? It's fucking daylight."

"Mitchem's crew," the wolf in front of him grunts. He scents the air tentatively, then grins. "And you smell important." Over his shoulder, he calls, "I found the Alpha's bitch." 

Stiles is suddenly surrounded by werewolves in various stages of transformation. "Excuse me," he says, lashing out with his bat as the first wolf approaches. "I'm _nobody's_ bitch." He catches the werewolf on the ear, stunning him momentarily. Another wolf rushes forward and grabs onto the end of the bat. She twists it in Stiles's grip until he is forced to drop it or break his arm. 

"Think again, human," the wolf purrs. She tosses the bat behind her and advances. She gets a few steps before crumpling into a heap at Stiles's feet. Behind her, Scott wields the bat, now bloody from contact with the wolf's head. 

"Anyone else want to try that?" he yells. 

The wolves on the porch retreat onto the grass of the lawn again, eyes darting around as they scent a new wolf approaching. Scott winces, as well. "Shit, Stiles. Look out!"

"What the-"

Derek leaps out from behind the house, dark fur standing on end all along his back and tail. His teeth are bared and bloody. Scott drops the bat as he gasps. "Derek?"

Derek's eyes glow red and vicious. The other wolves slink off quickly, leaving Lydia's car and Stiles's front lawn as if nothing had happened at all. One lone howl pierces the air after a moment.

Stiles blinks at the dark wolf in his lawn, who's now limping up to the porch and breathing heavily. "You alright, big guy?"

"He hurt his arm," Scott responds, scenting the air. He leans down and presses a hand to the scruff of Derek's neck. Moments later, Stiles can see black lines going up Scott's arm. Erica, Boyd, and Isaac gather around as well. 

"How many more times is he gonna try this?" Erica growls. She crowds Derek and Scott, pushing her forehead to Derek's in a headbutt. "It's a little close for comfort coming up on your boy like he did. Lucky he made it out alive. You did good, Derek."

Boyd jogs over and shuts off the Camaro's engine. "Might want to grab him some pants or something so he can shift back. Might be easier to heal if we can see what we're working with."

Derek whines and shimmies out of Scott's hold. Scott laughs. "It's not our fault you have dark fur."

"It's dark like his soul," Stiles deadpans. He swears he sees Derek's eyes roll. "So what do you think's gonna be the next move? They're nothing if not persistent."

"My guess? They'll try Deaton," Allison says. Chris's truck speeds into the driveway and he slides out with his crossbow cocked and ready. "They left," she tells him, "but we think they'll try Deaton's next."

Chris curses under his breath, but nods. "If their strategy is to take down those important to Derek first, I'd agree."

Scott's shoulders hunch as he moves to call Deaton's office. "Get Derek some pants so we can head over there."

"On it." Stiles heads into the house, moving quickly up the stairs to his dad's room to get some sweatpants. He barely hears the orders Allison and Chris are dispensing to the others on the porch because his head is whirring at the thought that if Derek and the pack hadn't been there, he might've been mauled to death. He's so preoccupied that he doesn't hear the soft clicks of wolf claws on the wood of the hallway behind him. He screams when warm arms circle his waist.

"Shhhh," Derek soothes, lips brushing the shell of Stiles's ear. "I've got you now."

"Not cool. I about had a heart attack."

"Sorry. Just let me..."

Stiles shudders as Derek's nose runs delicately down his neck, snuffling and blowing warm and cool against his skin. They're followed by soft lips and the nip of blunt teeth. "Derek? The others? Deaton?"

"We'll meet up with them in a minute." Derek nibbles at his earlobe.

Stiles squeaks. "You sure this is the time for this?"

"I heard them. Call you my bitch." Derek's tongue laves down the side of his neck in a broad stripe and Stiles hisses. "'s because you smell like me." He rumbles a growl against Stiles's back. His cock starts filling at the thought of Stiles smelling like him completely and he remembers how it felt with the boy's cock inside him. He rocks his own hips against Stiles's ass so he can feel how turned on he is.

Stiles swallows. "Okay, so we're doing this....in my dad's room...with the pack outside. Within smelling distance."

Derek spins Stiles around and the younger man has barely enough time to remember that the werewolf is naked before he's shoved against the wall and covered from head to toe by hot skin. "You're _mine_." He takes Stiles's mouth forcefully with his own.

Stiles's hips jerk up and he groans into Derek's mouth. He can hear the roar of Chris's truck outside as it takes off and the soft putter of Lydia's sedan follows. He relaxes as he realizes they're alone. "Fuck," he gasps as their mouths part. "Wait....wait..."

Derek pauses and blinks at him with concern. "Are you okay?"

"Definitely. It's just that I told you that next time, I wanted to take you apart with my mouth."

It's Derek's turn to whine as Stiles shimmies down his body and inhales deeply at the base of his cock. Stiles smiles and licks lightly at the line of hair from belly button to pubic bone. "I've only got what I learned in porn working for me right now, so be gentle," he says, brown eyes shining through thick lashes. Impishly, he flicks his tongue across the head, already wet with precum. It's briny, but not unpleasant, so he sucks the head fully into his mouth. He's pleased when Derek's hands find purchase in his hair. He circles his fingers around the base of Derek's cock as he suckles. Then, when Derek's hips twitch, he starts a slow pace, moving his hand up and down the shaft.

"Oh, God," Derek sighs, voice raspy and deep. His fingers tug painfully at Stiles's hair as they twist with his pleasure. "Stiles...

Stiles takes Derek deeper into his mouth, hand still at a steady pace at the base. He closes his eyes as if in prayer. The sounds of wet flesh and his slurping fill the room and his own cock throbs painfully within his jeans. He rocks on his knees, gagging slightly when Derek goes too far. 

Derek smooths a thick thumb down his jaw, massaging a bit where it meets under his ear. It's reverent and solemn. "Your fucking mouth. I can't-" He hums as another blurt of precum fills Stiles's mouth.

Stiles pulls away with a pop. "You want me to smell like you?" Derek nods, panting. "Then mark me up."

Derek's eyes go nearly full pupil and his body goes tense. "Fuck," he breathes. "Come here."

Stiles watches with wonder as Derek pulls his cock from his mouth and directs the head to push lightly against his swollen lips. His own hand takes over where Stiles had paused and he grunts as the first splash of cum hits the soft skin of Stiles's face. It's hotter than Stiles could have ever imagined and he feels _owned._ With that thought, he comes in his jeans, letting out a cry of his own.


	5. Against A Wall

Stiles finds himself plucked from the ground instantly. Derek's mouth is panting hot breath across his face and a single, strong hand is working the buttons of his jeans. He runs his own hand down his face, trying to see through the haze. He wipes the fluids on his shirt, at the obvious dismay of the werewolf in front of him. "Derek," he whimpers, "what're you-"

Derek's hand maneuvers into Stiles's pants efficiently. He groans when he meets the warm, sticky mess underneath boxer shorts. "You came?"

Stiles lets out a breathy laugh. "That right there was like #7 on my sexual bucket list, so excuse me for getting overly excited."

Derek leans forward and licks at a leftover spot of cum on Stiles's chin. Stiles shivers and jerks into Derek's palm. "Bucket list, huh?"

"You licking my face after that also made the list."

"I can tell," Derek smirks. He squeezes at Stiles's cock, which is valiantly trying to perk up again. "So what else is on that list?"

"I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you." 

"Might do that anyway," Derek murmurs against his neck. "Never thought...."

"Never?"

Derek pulls away, eyebrows furrowed. "Did you?"

"You were totally the inspiration for about 99% of all the gay items on my bucket list."

"Only 99%, huh?"

Stiles sighs. "I may have had a slight thing for Jackson at one point. Humiliation kink stuff." Derek snorts as he tries not to laugh. Stiles whacks at him. "Shut up. Teenage hormones and an overactive imagination."

"Anything else on that list I should know about?"

"We almost crossed another one off...."

"Another one?"

"Ever since you plastered me to my door and threatened me, I may have had a wall kink."

"Well," Derek starts pushing him back until he's flush against the wall, "let's see what we can do about marking that one off."

~*~

It takes another thirty minutes, a shower, and a load of laundry before they can leave the house. Even then, Scott still complains about the smell.


	6. Power Play

"Are you two serious right now?" Scott asks a few days later, glaring across the loft at Stiles and Derek.

"As a heart attack," Stiles quips. 

Derek shrugs. "I can do this all night."

"That's what she said," Erica jokes. Boyd sighs from beside her and reaches for another book from the coffee table. Isaac's jaw drops open in mock horror. Allison claps a hand over her mouth to keep herself from giggling outright.

"I know you can." Stiles wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. 

"Guys!" 

"Give it up, Scott. They're not going to help us with this until whatever weird mating ritual they're doing is over," Lydia grumbles. "Besides, we don't really _need_ their input on this anyway. We did just fine without them at Deaton's."

Stiles scoffs. "I resent that!"

"If it bothers you so much, then get over here and help us figure this out." Scott gestures wildly at the map he's got spread on the large dining table. "Derek's the one with all the knowledge of the preserve, so..."

"So it'll be just fine if he moseys on over there," Stiles smiles. "I'm not keeping him here."

Derek growls softly. "You're not winning."

"Oh, yes, Derek. I am. I've got willpower and stamina like you wouldn't believe."

Derek shifts in his seat, cheeks pinking up. "I-"

Erica snorts. "Now we're talking! What other 'skills' do you possess, Stiles?"

" _Dude!_ Come on! I'm serious here. Mitchem's pack isn't going away and we've got to beef up our security around here before we lose ground. Literally."

"I'm going to lose ground if I come help you, Scott. You're gonna have to do this one without me. This is important, too. Probably the most important thing right now. Can't give up."

"Really?" Scott flails, then lets his arms fall uselessly to his sides. "I cannot believe this."

Isaac huffs out a stern breath, strides over to the sofa, and tips it over onto its side. Both Derek and Stiles splutter as they land in a pile on the floor. "Help us," Isaac grunts before rushing back to his spot near Allison. Allison barely hides her smile behind her hand.

"That was uncalled for," Stiles says from on top of Derek. "But I clearly win." He presses a wet kiss to Derek's cheek, pushes off of him, and walks over to help Scott.

"It's okay, boss," Erica responds, amused. "It's not like we didn't already know who wears the pants in your relationship." She whispers loudly to Boyd, "definitely Stiles."

Derek drops his head to the floor dramatically and groans.

"I don't even see what the big deal is. You literally _own_ the couch, Derek."

"It's the principle of the thing," he sighs. "Plus, now he gets to pick movies for a week."

"That's not _all_ I get to pick," Stiles smirks. "But we'll let Erica's vivid imagination run wild with that information."


	7. In Public

Note: I have the front desk officer the name of Nancy. It's not canon but neither is John or Sterek unfortunately.

"You are _not_ pulling that charming dude act again."

"Worked last time," Derek shrugged. "Why wouldn't it work this time?"

Stiles exhaled out his nose sharply. "Maybe I should be the one to be suave and debonair." 

Derek rolled his eyes. "Let's see it, then."

"What? I can't....I'm not...."

"I'm losing faith here, Stiles."

"You just wait. I'll charm the pants off-"

"Who?" Sheriff Stilinski asked, coming out of his office with a stack of papers in his hands. 

Stiles's face heated up. "Nancy up front."

"And why are you charming her pants off, son?"

"For extra creamer in my coffee?"

John frowned. "No."

"You can't just-"

"If the sheriff says no...." Derek is grinning, which causes both Stilinskis to look at him incredulously.

"C'mon, Dad! Derek doesn't think I can schmooze."

"Oh, I think you can schmooze. Just not for creamer."

John looks between the two and shakes his head. "Look, whatever competition you have going on, leave my staff out of it. We have work to do. Important police business."

"Yeah, well maybe _creamer_ is important!" Stiles exclaims, throwing his hands up in the air. 

John reaches into his pocket, opens his wallet, and takes out a ten dollar bill. He hands it to Stiles. "Here. Run to the store and get some of your very own." He shoots a stern glance at them both before turning back to his office.

"We have to get on Nancy's computer and you're way better at slashing or picking or-"

"Hacking?"

"Whatever. Point is, we need in and I can't do the back stuff like you can."

Stiles bites his lip to keep from laughing. "Fine. Get her distracted and I'll do the back stuff."

It doesn't take Derek long to catch Nancy's full attention, spouting some odd story about a rescue cat and looking for someone to take it in. Stiles is pretty slick on the computer, too, and soon they're both back in the Camaro, info in hand. 

Stiles also takes something else in hand, much to the alarm of Derek. 

"This is the sheriff's office parking lot, Stiles!" He shifts and tries to move his hips away from the wandering fingers. "What if-"

"That's half the fun. Now sit back and enjoy it."

Derek tries lot to think about getting caught. He tries to focus on the warm feeling spiralling in his belly and the clenching of his toes as the pleasure spikes. He rides out his orgasm panting and fogging his windows. Stiles is slow and meticulous, not wanting to stop even when he's sticky and damp. Derek really doesn't mind, nearly forgetting their surroundings. However, it's when Nancy comes out of the station twenty minutes later that he lets out an indignant squawk and draws her attention right to the car. Derek pushes and shoves Stiles's hands back into his own lap as she comes closer and raps on the window

"Derek? Everything okay?"

He laughs, high and thin, but nods. "Fine! We were just-"

"Waiting for Dad," Stiles says, leaning over Derek and waving. Derek wheezes when he sees a somewhat slimy trail of white on the back of Stiles's hand.

"Oh! Hi, Stiles. Didn't see you in there." Nancy looks a little saddened by his presence. "I'm sure the sheriff will be out soon. It's been slow."

"Awesome! Thanks!"

"Good night!"

"You are evil incarnate, you know that?"

Stiles gives a smile that's all teeth. "Wouldn't have me any other way, though.


	8. Outdoors

"So you're sure you got the right information?" Derek asks, looking around the preserve anxiously. "I don't see how this is-"

"Trust me. I saw what I saw. There used to be an old mineshaft or tunnel right there."

"Why wouldn't I have known about this again?"

Stiles rolls his eyes. "It's _covered_ and it has been since 1925. In fact, your parents probably didn't even know it existed."

Derek huffs an irritated breath. "Fine. So the plan is to uncover it and then wait for Mitchem and his goons to just walk by?"

"It's a little more complicated than that. Remember? Chris thinks if we can catch him by surprise, we'd be golden. It's just going to take some baiting."

"Let me guess - you're the bait. Again."

Stiles shrugs. "Some of us are human."

Derek growls and stalks forward, grabbing Stiles by the hips and manhandling him back towards a nearby tree. "I don't like it." He takes a deep inhale of the spot behind Stiles's ear, then sucks a bright mark onto it. Stiles mewls, rocking his hips up into Derek's. "You could get hurt," Derek whispers. 

"I'll be fine," Stiles pants.

"You can't know that."

Stiles pulls away enough to look into Derek's eyes. "Yes, I can. You won't let me get hurt."

It's Derek's turn to whine as he takes Stiles's mouth in a hungry kiss. They rock together against the tree for endless moments, the sounds of the preserve the backdrop to their embrace. Finally, though, Stiles shoves at Derek's shoulders. "As much as I'm digging this, my back is starting to get some tree-burn." 

Derek runs a hand up Stiles's back. Warm scratches are starting to form on the skin. He closes his eyes. "Sorry." He holds onto Stiles tightly, taking away the stinging sensation with one long draw of his fingertips. "Better?"

"Dude, it was just a few scratches. But thank you." He leans forward to lick a stripe across Derek's lips. "Now, can we continue?" Derek has him on his back almost before Stiles can gasp at the vertigo of the movement. He arches up as his pants are pushed down and his cock is enveloped by a hot, calloused palm. "You-you, too. I want to feel you against me," Stiles moans. Derek strips off his own pants as well. Then, taking them both in hand, he starts moving against Stiles with purpose. The boy's cock is already slick at the head, making the slide against him even sweeter. Derek whimpers, mouth tight against Stiles's throat.

At Stiles's own spasm of ecstasy, Derek glances down at his hand. His cock is angry red next to Stiles's, which is pink and shiny with precum. His own cock head emerges more fully from his foreskin, blurting its own wetness out onto the boy's cock. He can smell the sharp tang of it in the air, nearly taste it. He lines them up more perfectly and nearly shouts when their heads rub together just so. "I wish..." he begins.

"What?" Stiles's eyes are dark with lust, mouth slack with pleasure. 

"I wish that I could fuck you right now," Derek admits. 

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Push inside you so slow and careful. Make you scream when you finally feel me completely."

"Fuck," Stiles curses. His cock jerks and twitches between them and then spurts thick ropes of cum across his chest. He wheezes as he comes down from it, eyes slipping down to watch as Derek, too, comes undone. "You really need to watch what you say if you expect me to last longer than that," he laughs. 

Derek just smiles lightly and kisses him on the forehead. "At the rate we're going, I'm going to wear out sooner than you think. What was that - three times today? _Jesus._ "

"Yeah, old man," Stiles teases. "But you forget that I'm young and agile. All that pent up sexual tension we've stored up for years is finally breaking. Better get ready for the torrent." He looks down at his chest then, frowning. "And ew. Now I'm covered in spunk and forest." He picks a leaf up out of the mess. "But maybe this will help lure Mitchem's crew better than just my own scent?"

"You are disturbing sometimes."


	9. Your Own Kink: Rimming

Stiles gasps, quickly scrambling to push at Derek's head. "What the hell are you doing?"

Derek looks up innocently. "Uh...."

"Dude! That's....that's _weird_. Isn't it weird?" He sits up and closes his legs.

"Okay. Sorry. I don't want to make you uncomfortable...."

"I just....I mean, I've seen this in porn before, but I always thought it was kind of...um....unsanitary?" Stiles blushes.

"You're fine, Stiles."

"Sorry."

Derek cups Stiles's head in his hands and kisses his forehead. "You don't have to apologize about not liking something or not wanting to do something. I'll just keep that in mind."

Stiles sighs. "You're good to me," he murmurs. He takes a deep breath . "Do you....uh....like that?""

"Rimming?"

Stiles nods, bashful.

"Yeah," Derek exhales.

"Giving or receiving?"

"Both. Either. But if you-"

Stiles surges forward, kissing Derek soundly. "If you like it....I'm open to trying it. Just this once. To see if I like it."

"You don't have to do this."

"I want to."

Derek smiles. "Okay then." He grabs Stiles by the ankles and pulls him down the bed quickly. He laughs as Stiles splutters at the treatment. Then, he gently parts Stiles's knees. His eyes never leave Stiles's as he bends down and licks a light stripe at the crease between leg and buttock. "I'll go slow," he reassures.

Stiles gasps again, but this time with a different type of excitement. Derek's mouth is hot at wet at his entrance, just breathing. It's unnerving - almost embarrassing - to think of Derek being this close to his most intimate parts. He squirms slightly when Derek's tongue sneaks out to tease the skin around his opening.

"God," Derek moans, clearly enjoying himself. "Is this okay, baby?"

"Fuck, yes." Stiles arches up, cock blurting warm sticky fluid onto his stomach. "Go....go ahead."

Derek smiles against his skin. His tongue delves deeper. Stiles feels himself open against the warm organ and he can't help but writhe back onto it more. Derek moans. His hands grip Stiles's thighs, roughly open them further, and he goes to town. Tongue swirling, lips teasing the edges of his slowly parting hole.... Stiles lets his head fall back onto the pillows of Derek's bed and he lets himself enjoy it.

"I didn't know," he sobs as his orgasm gets closer. He screams when it crests. He can feel every second of it, from the tips of his toes to the ends of each hair on his head. His body rocks back and forth on Derek's unrelenting tongue. "FUCK...."

"I take it you like?" Derek asks after Stiles has come down completely. One palm strokes down his thigh softly in a caring, soothing gesture.

"Understatement. And we are doing that again."

"I won't argue with you."


	10. Shower Sex

"I cannot believe you."

 

Stiles looks up from his laptop, mouth going dry when he sees his boyfriend shirtless and sweaty from his run.  He has to physically shake himself to focus on the somewhat angry tone of Derek's voice before he can properly figure out what he just said.

 

"Really?  Why? Because of the whole 'scent marking thing'?"  Come on, Derek.  Be serious."

 

"I was just in the preserve and it's more than a 'scent marking thing'.  It smells like a brothel out there.  A brothel with you as the top earner."

 

Stiles muffles a laugh behind his elbow, feigning a cough.  "But it'll do the trick, right?"

 

"More like it'll lure more than just Mitchem's gang in.  Jesus, Stiles!  What if they follow that scent and find you alone? Or a school?  They won't be bothered with pleasantries when they're forced into a frenzy."

 

"It's not that big of a deal."  Stiles lays a hand on Derek's shoulder.  "If it makes you feel better, you can mark me up again.  Make sure they know who I belong to."

 

"That's just it, Stiles," Derek explodes.  "They want you because of me!  I'm not keeping you safe - I'm putting you in more danger by just being together."  He runs an anxious hand over the back of his neck.  "You...you should probably go. Call Scott and have him stay over for as long as it takes to get rid of Mitchem and his pack."  He strides past Stiles and into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him.  Minutes later, Stiles can hear the shower start.  

 

He waits just long enough for Derek to get under the spray before locking the loft door and shedding his own clothing.  He drops pieces all along the way to the bathroom as he goes.  He's surprised at the amount of steam that escapes as he pushes open the door quietly.  Derek's form is dark against the pale tiles.  Stiles presses his lips together in defiance as he pushes the glass door open.  Derek doesn't even flinch.  

 

"You're being paranoid," he says as he steps in behind Derek, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend's body.  "I'm fine.  I'll be fine."

 

Derek sighs.  "I have enough experience in my life to know that having a little self-preservation goes a long way."  He shudders a bit under Stiles's fingers.  "You're cold."

 

"Well you have the shower turned up to Hades, so..."

 

Derek turns in his arms.  "Mitchem..."

 

Stiles stops him with a finger to his lips.  "I'm done talking about that right now.  We'll get it figured out and I'll be fine.  Okay?"  He nuzzles into Derek's neck tightly, breathing the humid air and licking up the skin to gather the droplets moving downward.  "Right now, I want you to see that I'm okay.  I want you to make me feel like a part of you."

 

Derek rumbles a groan from deep within his chest.  He slowly leans Stiles back until his back is agains the cool tiles, then effortlessly lifts his legs up over his hips.  "Can I?"

 

"Fuck, yes," Stiles moans.

 

Then Derek is grabbing the conditioner and slicking his fingers, pressing two inside with only minimal resistance.  He's mouthing at Stiles's collarbone and worrying it with blunt teeth.  Then, he's pushing Stiles up farther on the wall and sliding into him tenderly, stopping once in a while to help him adjust.  

 

Stiles's eyes are wide open in awe, so he doesn't miss the spidery black lines of pain being drawn from his body that snake up Derek's arms and torso.  He pants as the pleasure takes over and Derek begins to thrust into him with the perfect rhythm.  

 

He can feel fangs grazing at his chest now and it spurs him higher.  "I'm yours," he whimpers.  "Yours, Derek.  Only yours."

 

Derek whines and thrusts faster.  The shower is becoming more and more slippery with time and drips of conditioner at Derek's feet.  He wobbles as he feels his orgasm beginning.  "Stiles?"

 

But Stiles is gone - body tight and cock blurting stripes of cum across both of them.  His sudden tension makes him difficult to hold onto and Derek scrambles to keep them upright.  His claws dig into Stiles's hips and his fangs clamp down harder.  Stiles screams.  Derek winces at the sound, but feels the base of his own cock thickening and twitching with the need to spend itself.  

 

He finds his footing once more, then dives deeply into his own bliss.  It's not until after they've both come down that he notices the tinge of red in the bottom of the shower floor.  

 

"I'm so sorry," he gasps, pulling away from Stiles as soon as he's safely back on his own feet.  

 

"Sorry for what?"

 

"You're bleeding."

 

Stiles wipes at his chest, frowning.  "Oh, this? That was fucking incredible.  Don't....I'm not hurt, Derek.  Look."  He steps fully into the shower spray, then back out.  "See? All gone.  No worries."  At Derek's doubtful face, he kisses him sweetly on the mouth.  "It was kind of a turn on," he admits.  "So don't beat yourself up over it."  

 

"You're sure?"

 

"I'm sure, Protective Wolf."  He slaps Derek's wet ass with the palm of his hand.  "Now let's get washed up and into bed.  You have the crappiest water heater known to man.  This shit's getting cold!"

 


	11. Awkward

_Buzzzzz...._

Derek blinks blearily into the dimness of his bedroom, noting the morning light just starting to filter in through his curtains.  His phone buzzes again on the nightstand and he grabs at it so not to wake Stiles.  There's at least a dozen text messages and a few missed phone calls.  He frowns.  Each message is more frantic than the last.  He pokes at Stiles's ribs.

"Stiles, wake up."

"Huh?" 

"Something's happened.   Scott sent me some messages about Mitchem.  We need to go.  Now."

Stiles tumbles out of bed, hair sticking out in every way, and rubs at his eyes.  Derek shoves his legs into jeans and his feet into boots before Stiles has even crossed the room to the bathroom.  

"Hurry up, slow poke," he teases as he slides past him to quickly brush his teeth.  

Stiles grumbles something under his breath, elbows past Derek to get to his own toothbrush, and closes his eyes as he scrubs his mouth clean.  Derek smiles at him fondly.  

"I'll go get the Camaro.  Meet you downstairs in five."

Five minutes later, Stiles emerges from the loft's front entrance, still half-asleep.  "I never would have thought you were a morning person," he yawns. 

"You're just being especially slow today."

"Well, if someone hadn't have worn me completely out last night..."

Derek's cheeks pink up, but he grins.  "I didn't hear any complaining."

"I wasn't.  So what's up?"

"Scott thinks Mitchem left a present for Allison and Chris."

"Booby trap?"

"Dead rabbit.  Skinned and guts spread along Chris's windshield.  No note, but Scott says it smells like Mitchem."

Stiles shivers.  "Gross."

They pull up to the Argents' house shortly after, Derek taking note that most of the pack is standing outside.  Boyd looks ready to pounce and Erica is squeezing at his hand to calm him.  Scott rushes to Derek as soon as he opens the Camaro's door.  

"You guys took your sweet time," he complains.  "We're about ready to put the plan into action.  Think he's ready to take the bait."

Stiles's eyes go wide.  "Am I supposed to-"

"No," Derek says firmly.  "You're not going anywhere."

"Actually," a voice from behind them says, "he's going home with me."

"Dad?"

"Stiles. Get in the car."

"Uh, John," Chris steps forward, "your son-"

"My son was obviously at Mr. Hale's all night and now it's time to go home."  He quirks an eyebrow at Derek, who wilts visibly under the scrutiny.

"How?"

"Last time I checked, son, that wasn't your shirt.  And your neck wasn't marked up like that." 

Stiles's mouth drops open to explain, but Derek holds his hands up.  "You're right, sir," he replies.  "He stayed at my loft last night.  We had some...."

"I don't want to hear your lies, Hale," John growls.  "Stiles.  Car.  Now."

Stiles climbs into the patrol car, casting a nervous glance over his shoulder at Derek.  Scott shrugs in disbelief.  Derek looks as if he's wishing the earth would open up and swallow them all.  

John waits until the car door is shut before leaning forward towards Derek and whispers, "I'm not mad, Derek.  I know you're taking care of my boy.  I just need him to think I've still got the upper hand here."  He winks.  "Well, guess I'd better get back to it. Be safe, Scott."  He tips his head.  "Derek."

Derek nods, then backs up until he's beside Scott.  Once the patrol car is no longer visible, he swallows loudly.  "That was awkward...."


	12. Toys

"That's-"

Stiles's head whips around so quickly that he sees stars for a moment.  "Derek?"  He slides further under his covers.  "Uh, I can explain?"

"You're using a-"  Derek clears his throat.  "How did you even  _get_ that?"

Stiles shimmies around under the blankets until he's back in his boxers and sits up.  He told his eyes.  "The internet, Derek.  I have a debit card and know how to click the button that says I'm over 18."  He slips the object in question under his pillow as nonchalantly as possible.  "Besides, I haven't been able to see you in a few days and-"

Derek growls.  "You could have called me."

"Uh, hello?  House arrest?  The sheriff takes these things very seriously."

"You should have called me."

"And said what?  'I'm horny, come over'?  I'm sure that would go over well with my father when he found out why you were visiting."

Derek crosses the room in two long strides.  He rips the comforter off the bed and climbs over Stiles, hands bracketing his head on the headboard.  He smiles darkly.  He watches Stiles's Adams apple Bob in his throat.  "I'm sure the sheriff would've allowed a visit if you had asked."

"I don't think he would be okay with a conjugal visit."

"I think," Derek whispers, "what he doesn't know won't hurt you."  He snatches the toy from under the pillow deftly.  "But this?  This is not what you need."  He sits back on his feet, watching Stiles's slack-jawed expression as he runs the length of the toy down his bare chest.  "Is it helping?"

"N-no," Stiles pants.  He licks his lips.  "It'snot the same."

Derek's fingers fiddle with the waistband of his underwear.  "No, it really isn't."  He frowns down at the plastic phallus.  "Let me take care of you instead."

He flings it off the bed as Stiles clambers to get naked again.  It's frantic and desperate; the days between them seem like months.  "God, Derek," Stiles moans.  "Fuck me.  Please."

Derek's happy that he's still wet from the lube and stretched from the toy that doesn't compare to his own body.  It takes him but a second to rid himself of his pants and thrust inside.  Both men cry out with pleasure.  

"Next time, call me."

"Okay, okay!  Just....yeah....faster...."

They move together in almost a panic.  Derek grunts as he gets closer and Stiles grabs at his head to bring it to his collarbone. Without words, Derek knows what he needs.  His teeth graze lightly over the now healed mark and Stiles careens over the edge, howling.  Derek follows not long after.  They lay in a sated pile for long moments, waiting for their heart rates to return to normal.  Finally, Derek sighs.

"Your dad is on to us."

"Duh."

"But he's okay with it."

"I've been grounded for four days.  How is that okay with it?"

"Trust me."

Stiles hums.  Derek nuzzles into his neck.  "Is it stupid to be jealous of a silicone penis?"

Stiles laughs and laughs.

 


	13. Boring Sex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life happened....sorry! Two updates today.

"You wouldn't understand," Scott says while lounging on Stiles's bed.  He pokes at a snag in the comforter.  "You're still in this creepy honeymoon phase with Derek.  Everything's good and perfect and-"

"Whoa.  Nothing is perfect."  Stiles flops down beside Scott and passes him a bag of Cheetos.  "Like, the other day, I was just minding my own business, having a bit of fun by myself and then Derek's just there..."

"Oh, ew.  No.  Spare me the details."

Stiles rolls his eyes.  "You weren't so kind when you and Allison were in the honeymoon phase."

"I left out the gory details."

"I disagree.  There are things I know about Allison that I should never know.  Ever."  

"Well, at least you don't have a keen sense of smell."  Scott's nose wrinkles in displeasure.  "By the way, it reeks in here."

"Thanks."  Stiles smirks.  "I haven't washed the blankets since-"

Scott has never moved so quickly in his life. "Dude!"

Stiles nearly falls off the bed laughing.    Cheeto dust is floating in the air as he rolls on top of the bag, crushing it.  Scott is still standing horrified in the corner when Derek comes into the chaos, eyebrows furrowed.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing. You guys are gross."

Derek frowns even more.  "Why?"

"Scott just sat in the jizz spot," Stiles gasps.  

"Call me if you need something or if he ever grows up."  Scott stalks out of the room quickly, leaving Derek exasperated.  

"Really?"

"No," Stiles admits, wiping his eyes.  "But his face!  It was hilarious!  He was bitching about his boring sex life and I was telling him to stop complaining.  I had to suffer through all his stories of when he first got together with Allison, so turnabout's fair play.  He deserved to sit in the fake jizz spot."

Derek's eyes widen.  "You were telling him about our sex life?"

"No.  He wouldn't let me!"

"What am I going to do with you?"

Stiles climbs up on Derek's lap, still smiling.  "Wanna explore our honeymoon phase some more?"


	14. Safeword

"Petunia!"

Derek quirks an eyebrow.  "Really?"

"What?" Stiles shrugs, blushing.  "I wouldn't say it normally, so it should be perfect."

"I'm not quite sure I'm into all of this," Derek admits. "I mean, your dad's handcuffs?"

"They're not my dad's.  Just a spare pair from lock up.  No one's going to miss them."

Derek sighs.  "Still....isn't this a little..."

"Kinky?  You like kinky!  You're like the kink master supreme."

"Really?"  Derek crosses the room, head ducked as he examines the cuffs again.  "These won't hurt you, right?"

"They shouldn't.  Unless we get totally out of control..."

"And your safe word is petunia."

"Yep.  And yours?"

"Mine?"

"Well, I mean, you can tap out, too, you know."

"Petunia, too, I guess."

Stiles smiles widely.  "Okay then.  It's settled.  Let me just get out of my shirt and....hey, hand me the cuffs.  The key is still on the nightstand so..."

Derek swallows roughly as he watches his boyfriend undress from the waist up and clap a handcuff over one wrist.  He snakes his arms through the spindles of the headboard and nods at Derek.  

"C'mon, Big Guy.  Lock me up."

Derek blinks, but doesn't move.  "Petunia."

"What?"

"I...I can't do this.  I'm sorry."

Stiles sits up, the handcuffs clinking against the wood of the headboard.  "Don't apologize," he says softly.  "It's just for fun and we don't have to-"

"Kate," Derek rasps.  

"Shit.  I'm sorry."  Stiles wraps his arms around Derek and kisses his neck.  "Baby, I forgot.  I'm so stupid."

"I'm stupid."

"You're beautiful and strong and so, so smart, Derek.  Believe me.  I'm the idiot here.  I should have..."

"You couldnt have known. "

Stiles tips his head and looks at Derek sarcastically.  "You underestimate me."  He moves away long enough to unlock the cuffs from his wrist, then pulls Derek down beside him in the bed.  He strokes a hand through thick dark hair.  "No more restraints, yeah?"

"Yeah."

They lay there for a long while, silent, until they fall asleep.  That's how John finds them, curled up in Stiles's bed at 4 am after his shift.  He smiles and pulls the door shut.  He conveniently has the ability to forget that he saw cuffs from the station laying on the rug.  


	15. Roleplaying

"Really?  That's it?"

 

Stiles sighs, looking up from his laptop.  "Yes, Derek.  That's it."

 

Derek stares at him in amusement.  "Seriously?"

 

"What did you think I meant when I said 'roleplay?'"

 

"Well, considering what I saw on your list of depravity earlier, I expected some sort of props or costumes...."

 

"Like what?"

 

Derek blushes.  "I don't know...construction worker?  Or cop?"

 

"Dude," Stiles exclaims in disgust, "my  _dad_ is a cop!  That is quite possibly the grossest thing I've ever thought about."

 

"You brought in those handcuffs..."

 

"Totally different kink there, Derek."  Stiles crosses his room and opens his closet.  "And unless you want to explore  _this_..."  He whips out a pile of clothing, tossing it in Derek's direction. 

 

Derek catches it, then chokes on his spit.  "You....you have panties and stockings in your closet?"

 

It's Stiles's turn to blush.  "Yeah, well, I discovered on accident that I enjoy silky things on my body, okay?"

 

Derek exhales.  When he looks up at Stiles next, his eyes are blown wide with lust.  "We're going to explore that some more someday," he grits out.  He runs a finger down a satiny pair of black panties, folds them carefully, and lays them on the bed with care.  He clears his throat.  "But today..."  

 

"Today?  I'm a damsel of a different type."

 

"You realize that this isn't really all that different from daily living, right?"

 

Stiles chuckles.  "Dude, I'm a badass and you know it.  You only  _wish_ you could save my ass."  He drops down into Derek's lap, eyelashes fluttering in a sarcastic feminine way.  "However will I repay you, kind sir?"

 

"I don't know if I can do this..."

 

Stiles grinds down on Derek's lap.  "I don't know, Der....it certainly  _feels_ like you're into this."  They move together for a few moments, Derek breathing in Stiles's scent and shuddering as the younger man's lips find his pulse point.  "Did I ever tell you," Stiles whispers against his skin, "that every time I see you in full on defensive mode, I get a fear boner?"  He bites down on Derek's neck and smiles when Derek moans.  "You saving me is the best roleplay in my spank bank."  He stands up and claps his hands together.  "Now.  Give me a ten-minute head start and I'll be waiting to be rescued somewhere in the preserve.  Okay?"

 

Derek nods.  

 

Twenty minutes later, he finds himself in a blind panic as he struggles to find Stiles's scent in the preserve.  He can smell traces of Mitchem all around him and only the faint trail of his boyfriend - lustful scent bogged down by the sharp aroma of true fear.  He senses wolfsbane and mistletoe around him as well.  He can't even think enough to find his phone in his pocket.  Instead, he throws back his head and howls.


	16. With Food

It takes Scott and the others five minutes to get to the clearing in the preserve and five more to realize that they are effectively blocked from getting to Derek.  Derek is pacing back and forth, neck twitching and claws extended.  His growls set Isaac on edge and he whines in anxiety.  Scott fishes his phone out of his jacket pocket.  "Allison?  Bring your dad and get to the preserve.  Now.  I'm sending you my location."  He motions to Erica.  "Patrol the perimeter of this....whatever this is.  We've got to be ready for anything."  He pushes forward against the invisible barrier around Derek, wincing at the strength of it and the smells of mistletoe and wolfsbane.  "We're here, Derek.  We'll get this figured out.  Just hold on."

"Derek Hale," a voice booms from above them all.  "I was hoping you'd be able to find me again."  Mitchem drops from the trees, smirking.  "I see you brought your pack.  Or whatever it is you call this mess of teenage angst."  

"Where's Stiles?"

Mitchem laughs, head thrown back and clutching his belly.  "I  _knew_ he was important.  You're really transparent, you know."  Scott growls from behind them.  "Awww, looks like your little baby alpha wannabe wants to know where Stiles is, too.  Too bad he can't cross the lines to help you out."  

"What did you do?" Malia growls beside Scott.  

"I have a mage in my pack," Mitchem explains.  "She's powerful and has this amazing spell that creates what you're unable to cross right now.  Derek can't get out of the clearing and you can't get in.  And now," he says, pausing for effect, "you're going to watch your alpha die and you can do nothing about it."

Mitchem lunges, claws slashing out and catching Derek's chest.  The tang of blood is coppery in the air.  Derek hisses, but lunges back.  They tussle and struggle against the forest floor.  Scott paces the edges of the spell line with Malia behind him.  There's a moment when Mitchem is atop Derek, fangs at the ready to clamp down on Derek's neck, that causes the Hale pack to leap at the invisible barrier.  It ends when a silver arrow slices through the air and embeds itself in Mitchem's chest.  The older wolf screams in pain.  Derek throws him off of his chest.  

"Where.  Is.  Stiles?"

Mitchem can't speak, though.  He scuttles towards the far side of the spell work and whines.  There's a green glow that blinds the wolves with its brightness and when they open their eyes only seconds later, Mitchem and the barrier are gone.  Allison, Scott, and the others scatter around the preserve, desperately searching for the other wolf pack.  Stiles comes jogging up shortly after, out of breath and covered head to toe in leaves, dirt, and something sticky and brown.  Derek races forward, tackling Stiles to the ground.  

"Mine," he pants.  He licks a stripe up Stiles's neck.  He frowns in confusion at the taste.  "Maple syrup?"

"You have no idea the weirdness that goes on in that pack."

"Are you okay?"

"A little shaken up, but that's pretty normal for me."  Stiles searches Derek's face.  "That was not the intention of this roleplaying adventure.  I didn't think I'd  _actually_ need rescuing."

"I didn't-"

Stiles bites his lip flirtasiously.  "Oh, kind sir, however shall I repay you?"  He wraps his arms around Derek's middle when the wolf doesn't seem to be calming.  "Take me home, Derek."

"Mitchem-"

"Scott and the others will take care of it for now."  Stiles breathes out, letting his body relax some.  His limbs start shaking.  "I just really want to go home and get into the shower.  This syrup is in places it shouldn't be."

Derek growls, but scoops Stiles up anyway.  "No more games," he grumbles.  "And that asshole is going to wish he'd never touched you at all."

"My hero...."

 


	17. Insecurities

"I can't keep doing this," Derek says, voice quiet.  

"Doing what?"

"I think maybe we should go back to whatever we were before I left Beacon Hills."

"What?"  Stiles raises up on his elbows so he can glare down at Derek, who's sprawled across the bed.  They're both damp and warm from the shower and the faint scent of maple syrup lingers.  Stiles's body is still thrumming from Derek's frantic hands and body on his as he seemingly proved Stiles to be alive and okay.  "You want us to go back to being, what?  Because before you went traipsing through Mexico, we were hardly even what some call friends, Derek."

Derek looks away. "We can be friends now, though."

Stiles scoffs.  "I'm sorry - I'm not sure I can do that."

"You're in danger.  Because of me."

"Newsflash: I was in danger long before this," Stiles gestures between them, "ever became more than friends.  My dad would argue that I've been a danger to myself since I could crawl."

"Mitchem-"

"Is an idiot."  Stiles reaches out and gently guides Derek's face so he's facing him again  "I've got this.  You've got this.  The pack's got this.  Mitchem doesn't stand a chance around here and he knows it.  He's all show."

"He's almost had you twice now," Derek rumbles, holding back his wolf.  "I won't let him-"

"I know," Stiles whispers.  He presses a kiss to Derek's mouth, waiting for the other man to relax.  Then he smiles.  "I love you."

Derek takes a startled breath.  "I love you, too."

"Now, shut up about being just friends and check my back for syrup again.  I'm not sure I've got everything...."


	18. A Turn Off

Stiles checks his phone again, frowning.  

"Still nothing?" Scott asks from beside him at the lunch table.

"You don't think he'd do something stupid, do you?"

"Like?"

"I don't know....like call out Mitchem and his pack without telling anyone else?"

Scott takes a drink from his milk carton.  "I don't think so.  I mean, ever since you got kidnapped by that moron, he's been hanging around outside-"

Allison clears her throat noisily.  Scott rapidly begins stuffing French fries into his mouth, cheeks turning pink.

"That son of a bitch," Stiles curses.  He stands up, dumps his tray in the nearest trash can, and heads for the paring lot.  Once there, he scans for Derek's Camaro.  At frist, he doesn't see it, but eventually he makes out the dark shadow of the sports car underneath a shade tree at the edge of the staff parking lot.  He storms across the lot, seething. 

"You!" He exclaims as he gets closer to the car.  "Out!  I know your wolfy ears can hear me.  Get the hell out of the car."

Derek steps out sheepishly.  "Stiles, I can explain-"

"I'm sure you can, but I'm gonna do you one better.  I'm going to tell you why you're out here all stalker mode.  You don't believe that I'll be okay and you don't trust that between the pack and my own awesome combat skills that I can make it through a school day without getting snatched or killed.  Am I right?"  When Derek doesn't answer, Stiles slaps an angry hand onto the roof of the Camaro.  "Am I right?"

Derek sighs.  "I just want to make sure-"

"Go home, Derek."

Stiles spins on his heel and starts back towards the building, shaking with rage.  

"Come by after class," Derek calls after him.

"Fat chance," Stiles spits.  "I'm so pissed right now that you'll be lucky to get a text later, let alone stop by."  He takes his phone out and turns it off. "I'm going to hang out with Scott this afternoon.  No need to worry."

"You're being childish."

"Yeah, well, I'm being treated like a child so...."

Derek doesn't sleep that night, even after Scott checks in and tells him Stiles is safe and sound.  


	19. Hurts So Good

Stiles keeps his phone off for two days.  He knows that Scott's keeping Derek informed of his well-being and it both irritates him and makes him feel guilty.  He also knows he's being ridiculous.  Derek's intentions are good.  Stiles isn't an idiot.  But, he's also a stubborn butthead from time to time and this particular subject is sore for him.  He tosses the rubber ball in his hands against the ceiling again.  The physicality of it and the loud thump soothes his nerves.

His dad walks by his door for the third time before he finally stops and pokes his head into Stiles's room.  "Everything alright, son?"

"Fine."

John's eyebrow quirks up.  "You don't  _sound_ fine."  He opens the door and lingers in the doorway, uncomfortable.  "I haven't seen Derek around in a couple of days."

"Nope."  He tosses the ball up again.  This time, a dusting of sheetrock rains down on his bed.  

"Did you two have a fight?"

Stiles rolls his eyes.  "No.  A misunderstanding?  Maybe.  A gross underestimation of my abilities?  Definitely.  But not a fight, no."

John comes in and sits gingerly at the end of the bed.  "You know he's just looking out for you."

"I know."

"And you know that he's got a little bit more going for him on the strength, speed, and self-healing fronts, right?"

Stiles shoots him a pointed glare.  

John purses his lips in loving frustration.  "If he's wanting you to stay safe, then I can't say that I'm against that."

"But I can take care of myself."

"Not always."

"I just hate that he trusts everyone else but me." Stiles throws the ball against the ceiling with more force than before.  John snatches it out of the air on its descent.  

"It's not that he doesn't trust you, Stiles.  He doesn't want you hurt.  What other people around you do isn't on you; it's all up to their decisions and actions.  But if you get hurt, I don't think Derek could forgive himself - _especially_ if he could have prevented it.  It wasn't all that long ago that he was sitting in the station, listening to the officers explain that his whole family went up in smoke.  He was helpless then - he can't help wanting to keep that from happening again."  John stands up and tosses the ball back to Stiles.  "It's been very difficult for me, as your father and the sheriff, to sit back and let Scott and Allison and Derek take over the job I've had since you were born - the job your mother entrusted in me when she left us.  But I know that if it came down to a supernaturally strong werewolf pack or me?  I know that they'll do right by me and your mother and protect you above all."  He stops at the threshold of the door on his way out.  "Just don't be so hard on him.  He may be physically strong, but someone needs to protect his heart.  It's not quite as resistant to breaking."

Stiles stares after the closed door for long minutes after his father shuts it.  The ball lays still in his hands and his eyes close as he blocks out everything but his own thoughts.   _He's right,_ he thinks to himself.   _Derek's not as durable as he looks._   

This time, he doesn't hesitate.  He dials the number from memory and exhales with relief when Derek answers on the second ring.  

"Derek?"

"Stiles?  Are you-"

"I'm fine.  Well, actually, I could really go for some ice cream."

Derek splutters a bit, then recovers.  "Okay?"

"Can I come over?"

"I don't..."

"I'll bring the ice cream; you supply the couch."

"I'll leave the door unlocked."

Stiles smiles as he hangs up.  He tries to ignore the fond smile on his father's face as he walks out the front door.

 


	20. A Dry Spell

Stiles moans, clutching his stomach in mock despair.  "Why did you let me eat that much ice cream?"

Derek laughs.  "I'm pretty sure I couldn't have stopped you if I wanted to."  He reaches out a hand and lays it across Stiles's belly, rubbing gently.  Faint gray lines ripple across his arm and Stiles sighs with relief.  "Better?"

"Much."

"I'm sorry."

"I get it.  You're just trying to look out for me."  Stiles sits up straight and looks at Derek head on.  "But I'm not a child and I'm not an invalid. I know I'm not as strong as you or Scott or anyone else in the pack, but at least try and treat me like I'm capable."

Derek turns away, biting his lip.  "I can try."

"That's all I ask."

"Mitchem and his pack have been pretty quiet since he took off with you.  We're anticipating some movement shortly, but you're definitely on their radar."

"Yeah, I got that."  Stiles stretches and yawns.  "It's getting late.  Wanna walk me to my jeep to be on the safe side?"

Derek's nose scrunches in confusion.  "I'd rather you just stay here."

Stiles looks at his shoes.  "I'm not sure, that with all that's going on, that it's a good idea for us to....you know..."  When Derek still looks confsed,, Stiles wiggles his fingers in the air.  "Mitchem knows to come after me because I'm important to you, right?  So if we lay low for a little bit until this is settled..."

"I'm not sure he's stupid enough to think we've separated."

"But it wouldn't be a bad idea for me to stop smelling like I'm your property."

"I don't own you."

"There's been biting, mister."

Derek's cheeks turn pink.  "We don't live in an archaic world where that means what it did even 100 years ago, Stiles.  You're still a free man, whether or not I claim you. Mitchem could still scent our combined scents anyway.  It might deter him."

"Lies."  Stiles tugs on his hoodie and tosses the empty ice cream container in the trash can.  "But thanks for trying.  I really need to get home.  Dad's probably waiting up."

"You can't text him and let him know you're staying?"

"Well, yes, but I'm not sure I'm ready to jump back into this again."

"Back into what?"

"You and me.  This....whatever it is between us that's been somewhat undefined.  I'm still kind of hurt," Stiles admits.  "I know you want me to stay safe and you care for me, but being treated like I'm not even close to equal?  I'm not sure I'm up for jumping back in the sack with you immediately."

"Even for sleeping?"

"Lets take this slow.  I don't want to screw it up.  Besides, wouldn't I still smell like you if we slept together?  Kinda defeats the purpose of throwing Mitchem off the trail."

Derek takes a breath.  "Okay.  Let's get you home, then."

Outside, at his jeep, Stiles pouts inwardly as he sees Derek's hopeful expression fall.  He wants so bad to kiss away the tension.  He knows, though, it will be worth it if they can withstand this bump.  He squeezes Derek's hand instead.  "I'll text when I get home."

"I love you," Derek whispers, voice rough.

"I love you, too."

~*~

The dry spell they force on themselves lasts a short while.  Three days to be exact. And boy, when they let themselves come back to each other? Well, it's quick and dirty, just the way Stiles always envisioned it. 


	21. Quick and Dirty

"Why do you even  _listen_ to me?" Stiles pants, back against the brick wall outside Derek's loft.  

Derek growls and presses against Stiles completely.  He licks into Stiles's mouth with thick, broad swipes.  "I'm not anymore."  He grinds his hips into Stiles's and both of them moan.  "But we've got to get inside.  I'm not sure-"

"What?  Not into public sex?"  Stiles wiggles his eyebrows mischiveously.  

Derek shakes his head.  "Not when your father is the sheriff and we've got someone on our trail."

"Good point."  Stiles shoves him off rather roughly.  "Lead the way."

They make it up the stairs, into the elevator, and halfway up to the loft before Derek can't stand it anymore.  He slaps a hand on the emergency stop button and crowds Stiles up to the wall.  "Your idea really didn't work."

"It would have worked if you could have stayed away from me."  Stiles spins and faces the wall, shoving his hips back.  He smiles when Derek groans in his ear.  

"We were taking things slow," Derek reminds him.  His hands grip Stiles's hips to slow their movements.  "If you keep that up, it won't be slow."

"Fuck slow.  I'm an idiot."  Stiles reaches behind him and grips Derek by the back of his neck, pulling him down for a dirty kiss.  "Fuck me."

"I didn't bring anything-"

"Then just..." 

The sound of Stiles's zipper wrenching apart is loud in the elevator.  Derek breathes through his mouth as he tries to control himself, moving his hands up underneath the well-worn t-shirt Stiles is wearing.  He grins into Stiles's neck as the younger man arches and gasps when his fingers find stiff nipples and twist lightly.  "This is going to be extremely disappointing," he says quietly.  He helps Stiles push down his pants.

Stiles licks his palm as he turns to face Derek again, taking himself in hand.  "Yours, too.  C'mon."  He fumbles with helping Derek pry open his jeans and pull out his cock.  He's pleased to see the wet head pushing out far from the foreskin.  "Next time," he rasps, "we need to get to the good stuff.  But for now..."  His eyes glint as he licks his palm again and takes them both in hand.  Derek hisses and bucks forward, falling onto a palm so not to crush Stiles.  

"Give me about fifteen minutes after we get into the loft, baby," Derek groans.  

Stiles's cock jumps at the term of endearment.  The slick head rubs deliciously against Derek's.  "I expect you to follow up on that," he says matter-of-factly.  He grabs Derek's free hand and maneuvers them both into a better position.  He whines, high and needy, as he sees a blurt of precum slide out of Derek's cock and onto his own.  

The only sound now is the sounds of rubbing, just wet enough to serve the purpose but dry enough to give a hot scrape of urgency that Stiles hadn't felt since he was just learning how to pleasure himself.  The joys of lube are for another time, though.  He keens as he comes, thick and warm landing on Derek's shaft and easing the way for the older man to rub more vigorously.  It's surprisingly only a mere moment before Derek is coming, too.  Splashes of cum gather on Stiles's stomach and drip down onto the base of his cock.  

"Fuck that was..."

Derek sucks a mark on Stiles's neck.  "There's a bed and lube upstairs."

"I thought that was the whole point when we headed up here."

"Yeah, well."  Derek shrugs, glancing down at the mess they've made between them.  "We need to get up there, though.  I'm not entirely sure this elevator isn't wired to signal the fire department if it's been idle between floors like this for this long."  He frowns at his sticky hand before poking at the button with his elbow.  They both tuck themselves back in uncomfortably.

As the doors to the elevator open, they can hear the sirens of the fire trucks heading towards the building.  "Oops..."


	22. The Umpteenth Time

They manage to make it into the loft before the fire department is on the scene and they watch as the firefighters pile out of the truck and into the building.  Derek snickers as he relays their confused conversation in the hallway when they run the elevator up and down a few times.  When the fire chief knocks on the door to ask questions, Stiles pokes his head out.   The older man's forehead wrinkles. "Mr. Hale?"

"Really, Ronald? You know who I am."

"Stilinski's boy? Why are you-?"

"Oh. Didn't dad send out a memo or something? I figured with Derek's background, he'd want the entire town understanding what's going on in here."

The chief splutters and rubs a hand over the back of his neck. "Now, whatever you're doing in Mr. Hale's home is none of my business, you know...but we're here investigating the elevator. Do you have any idea what might be going on with it? Have any issues earlier?"

Derek rushes forward, but Stiles holds him back with a firm palm to the chest. "Honestly, we didn't even notice the elevator wasn't running," he says, innocently.  "We've been in here playing tiddlywinks for hours." He winks. The fire chief's mouth drops open.

Derek coughs roughly to cover his laugh.  The fire chief frowns but tells them to call back if they have any issues with it.  Stiles obnoxiously assures him they will and to have a safe drive back to the station. The fire truck leaves almost as quickly as it arrived and Stiles can't help but smirk once they're gone.

"You're a menace."

Stiles nods.  Then, he reaches down and pulls his shirt up over his head.  "A menace who needs a shower.  And some lube."  He leaves the shirt where it lies and strips himself of his pants as well.  "Coming?"

"Right behind you." 

~*~  
  


This time, they take it slower - moving together as if one being, bodies fluid and combined and perfect.  Derek nips and bites as he comes.  Stiles shakes and shudders beneath him.  They lay together in the quiet aftermath, Derek's fingers tracing the line of dark hair from belly button to cock on Stiles's body.  

"I'm sorry if I made you feel less of a man," he whispers finally.  "I don't want to lose you."

"I know."  Stiles kisses Derek's mouth sweetly.  "I understand.  I don't want to lose you, either."  He sighs in contentment, eyes slipping closed.  "I'm happy with you," he admits.  "Here.  Now."

"I think I am, too."

"You think?"

Derek glances up at Stiles from under his eyelashes.  "It's been a very long time since I've been this content.  It's taking some getting used to-"

The loud shrill sound of his father's ringtone startles both of them into movement.  "Shit," Stiles curses as he realizes he left his phone in his pants pocket and his pants in a pile on the floor downstairs.  "Let me just-"

Derek rolls away, grabbing a washcloth from the bathroom to clean up a bit as Stiles goes down naked to answer the phone.  "Everything okay," he asks as Stiles comes back into the room.

"Dad got a call from the fire department."

"Oh."

"I told him I was staying over.  He asks that we not try to break the elevator again."

"What did you tell him?"

"I told him we pushed the emergency button on accident when we were-"

"You did not."

Stiles grins.  "Guess you'll never know."  He takes the washcloth from Derek's hand and swipes it across his body efficiently.  "Now, I believe there were some cuddles being had?"  He bounces back into the bed, still naked.

Derek's mouth waters at the sight.  "Cuddling can be arranged."


	23. Spontaneous

Derek takes his time watching Stiles in the morning.  The sun is about midway through the sky and is filtering through the shades jist enough for him to see all the freckles and moles scattered over Stiles's body.  He counts a few dozen before sinking back into just idly gazing at him.  

Stiles's bottom lip is slightly shiny in the light.  Derek feels his cock stir with the memories of kissing it in the early hours of the morning, of sliding his cock head over the plump skin and thrusting in with gentle intensity.  He must rock his hips along with his memory because Stiles shifts beside him, yawning as his eyelashes flutter open.

"Morning," he sighs.  He curls up closer to Derek.  "Been awake long?"

"Not long, no," Derek lies.  He feels Stiles smile against his chest.  "Have a good rest?"

"I'm not sure I've ever been so thoroughly ravaged before.  What time is it?"

"Close to 9."

"Jesus."  Stiles rolls away slowly and stretches out until even his toes are fanning and curling with pleasure.  "Wonder if Dad's been worried."  He snatches his phone off the nightstand.  "Shit."  He sits straight up.  "Check your phone."

Derek sits up in alarm and grabs his own phone.  Several missed calls and text notifications blink up at him.  He thumbs through them.  "We need to get to Scott's."

"Never a dull moment, huh?"  Stiles rushes into the bathroom and flips on the shower.  It's a record speed of ten minutes and they're both clean and decently dressed, skipping the elevator for the stairs this time.

Scott meets them at the door when they arrive, concerned glare sent in their direction.  "Why did you turn off your phones?  You know this isn't the best time-"

"How is she?" Stiles asks, ignoring Scott.  He barely contains a gasp when he shoves through to the living room and finally spots Melissa.  Her face is swollen and mottled with bruises.  She attempts to smile up at him but winces instead.  "What happened?"

"Mitchem, of course."  Scott paces the floor, eyes flashing occasionally.  "He actually didn't realize she was related to the pack.  Just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time."

"The hospital?"

"Your house," Scott spits.  His claws flick out and he closes his eyes to breathe past the change.

Derek growls.  "The sheriff?"

"He's fine," Melissa rasps.  "He wasn't home anyway."

"I can't do this anymore," Stiles says, crossing his arms over his chest.  "Let's kill this fucker."

"Not so fast-"

"No, Derek.  We've waited and pussy-footed around long enough.  Now you're either going to help me take him down-"

"I'm on board," Scott says, low.  

"We can't rush..."

"There's no rushing.  We've been dealing with this for long enough.  Enough people have gotten hurt.  I won't wait until my dad gets murdered.  I'm done.  Are you with us?"

Derek huffs indignantly.  "You're right.  Call Argent.  Let's finish this."


	24. Aftercare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Thanks for sticking with me - you have no idea the crazy that has happened around here. I slid out of practice with this one and hope to get it completed within the next day or so. I also have a new story up (with 2 chapters left to add) called "Whispers."

"Get out here," Stiles screams into the chilly air of the preserve.  "I know you're out here, coward!"

 

"This is a horrible idea," Derek says, eyes darting around the trees.  

 

"No, it's not.  We want to get rid of Mitchem and I'm done dealing with his bullshit.  I want this done now so I can get back to what we were-"

 

"Your boy is half-cocked," Erica smirks.  "I like it."

 

Derek rolls his eyes.  "There's an easier way to get him to come out of hiding, you know."  

 

"Yeah?"

 

"This is stupid," Scott huffs from behind them.

 

Allison readies her bow.  "It's not.  It's past due, Scott.  We've got to finish this - for your mom, if nothing else."

 

Scott shakes his head, then raises it to the sky.  Together, the wolves in the pack howl, a deafening pitch that sends chills up Stiles's spine.  Lydia is shaking beside him, trying to keep her own screams inside.  Within minutes, though, Mitchem and three scraggy-looking werewolves are breaking into the clearing, ready to fight.  

 

"Rules are simple," Derek says with authority.  "No magic.  No wolfsbane or mistletoe.  No guns.  My humans aren't in the fight."  He looks pointedly at Stiles and Allison. 

 

"So that pretty little archer isn't going to put another arrow in my chest this time?  She really needs to work on her aim, by the way.  My heart's a little farther to the left, bitch."

 

Scott puts a hand on Allison's arm as she starts to raise her bow.  Derek raises his own to signal everyone to stand down.  "You touch them, you die." The other wolves around Derek whine and paw the earth, but don't approach or attack.  Scott, Erica, Boyd, and Isaac stand at the ready.  

 

"Isn't that the point, Hale?  Fighting to the death?" Mitchem laughs.  "You're seriously getting soft.  Your mother would be disappointed in y-."

 

Derek doesn't give him time to finish the sentence before he's pouncing, claws shredding Mitchem's neck in two long stripes.  Blood spurts across Derek's face and neck.  Mitchem is gasping for air, clawing at Derek's hands with his own, body jerking involuntarily underneath.  Derek slashes and slashes, eyes fogging over red - blood or focus or Alpha strength, he doesn't know.  He just feels the satisfaction of the kill thrumming through his own veins.  He's so gone that he doesn't realize that Mitchem's dead until Lydia's scream pierces his ears.  He jolts back from the body beneath him and stumbles away to land in a heap on the forest floor.  He's panting and sweaty, stomach turning when he looks over and sees Mitchem's head is almost completely severed from his body.  

 

"Der?  Can you hear me now?"  Stiles is there beside him, reaching out a hand slowly as if trying to soothe a frightened animal.  "Are you okay? Baby, please," he murmurs quietly.  "It's over now.  Come back..."

 

"Alpha?" Scott says.  His eyes glow gold as Derek looks at him.  "Alpha, you're scaring the humans."

 

Derek looks down at his hands.  They're bloody beyond recognition.  On one claw, a chunk of hair and skin is dangling.  Derek turns his head and vomits onto the ground, then crumples, whining.  

 

The pack circles him, mewling and barking in a mixture of anxiety, pride, and family.  Stiles rakes long fingers through his sweat-damp hair and makes soothing shushing noises into his ear.  "Don't....don't look at me," he whimpers.  

 

"Let's....let's get you home and into a shower, huh?"  Stiles murmurs.  "Nice warm water?  Get you cleaned up?"

 

"I'm a monster," Derek whispers.  "I can't-"

 

"You're my monster and I'm not leaving you alone."  Stiles wraps an arm around Derek's shoulders.  "Let me take you home."

 

~*~

 

Derek doesn't remember getting home.  He doesn't remember the shower or Stiles dressing him and putting him to bed.  He doesn't remember being force fed water and soup or being read to when the hours were long.  

 

He wakes up to moonlight streaming in the windows of the loft and warm limbs wrapped around his own.  When he shifts a little to get more comfortable, Stiles's arms and legs tighten around his.  "I've got you, baby," Stiles slurs in slumber.  "You're okay.  It's okay now..."

 

Derek's heart nearly bursts.  "Stiles?"

 

Stiles's head shoots up at the sound of his voice.  "Der?"

 

"I'm sorry..."

 

"For what?"

 

"Freaking out."

 

Stiles leans over and kisses Derek's temple, then snuggles into his body again.  "Don't ever be sorry for that.  I love you."

 

"I love you, too."

 

"Stop angsting and go to sleep.  It's been a long two days."  

 

It doesn't take much longer before Derek's asleep again, safe in Stiles's arms.


	25. An Accident

"Shit! Fuck!"

Derek is out of bed and sliding into the kitchen within seconds.  Stiles has his hand plunged under the faucet.  Smoke from a pan on the stovetop is starting to fill the loft.  Derek turns off the gas under the burner, then turns to his boyfriend.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just got popped with some of the bacon grease when I was flipping it."  He squints over his shoulder and smirks.  "Good morning to you, too."

Derek looks down and relies he's standing in the kitchen stark naked, morning erection still standing proud.  He blushes, but doesn't try to cover up.  He reaches around Stiles smoothly, turns off the water, then crowds him against the sink. "Let me see."

Stiles lets Derek cradle his burned hand in both of his and sighs as the pain recedes almost immediately.  "I told you I loved you, right?"

"Mmmhmmm...."

"Hungry?"

It's Derek's turn to smirk.  "Mmmhmmmm...."

"Oh.  Yeah, me, too."

The bacon is forgotten and they don't emerge from the bedroom until nearly dinner time.

 


	26. Drunk Sex

"Please?"

Stiles frowns at Derek, who's draped across his lap and begging.  He casts a glance around the room at the rest of the pack.  Everyone else seems to be pretending nothing's happening on the couch.  He winces as he catches another whiff of wolfsbane liquor on Derek's breath.  

"No."

"But, baby," Derek slurs, "I need you.  Everything's so fucked up right now with Mitchem and I  _need_ you to help me forget..."

Stiles squirms under Derek's pawing and blushes. "If you hadn't noticed, Der, we kind of have a full house right now."

"Oh, we don't mind," Erica purrs from Boyd's lap.  

"Yes, we do."  Scott shoots daggers at the pair of them.  Stiles tries to look apologetic.  

"You guys were the ones who suggested this..."

"We can hang out another time," Allison concedes, standing and stretching.  "I've had enough anyway."

"It sounds like you need to take care of your boy," Boyd agrees.  He pushes Erica gently until she's standing, then tugs her along with him to the door.  "Later, all."

Lydia yawns.  "Call if you need anything.  Anyone need a DD?"

"We'll go with you," Allison says.  She grabs Scott and moves him towards the door, too.  "Good night!"

Stiles manages to keep Derek's hands out of his pants until the door is shut firmly behind their friends.  Then, he relaxes into his boyfriend's onslaught.  

Derek's mouth is hot and wet, licking and suckling Stiles with fervor.  Stiles clutches at the arm of the couch and tries not to buck into it further.  "Baby....baby, I'm not sure we should...."

Derek hums around him and Stiles gasps.  He grips Derek's hair and pulls him away, waiting until he has the werewolf's attention before he speaks.  "We should wait until you've sobered up a bit."

"No, I'm fine.  I'm fine."

Derek tries to go back to his task, but whines when Stiles is able to hold him back.  "No. Let's get you some water.  Get you to bed."

When Stiles returns from the kitchen with the glass of water, though, he's surprised to see Derek sobbing on the couch.  "Derek?"

"I can't stop seeing it," Derek cries, "his blood....his skin...fuck."

Stiles puts the glass in front of Derek.  "Drink some of this.  It will help."  He waits while Derek gulps the entire glass down.  "Feeling better?"

Derek looks up at him with big eyes. "Can you help me forget?"

"Let's go to bed."

~*~

Stiles snuggles Derek's head into his neck and wraps their limbs together all night, but he doesn't sleep much.  He goes over the past few days again and again - Mitchem's body, Derek's face, Derek nearly comatose....

He passes out near dawn and wakes up only when he feels Derek start snuffling at his neck.  "Feeling better now?"

Derek nods softly. His eyes look clearer then the previous evening.  "Can you help me forget now?"

Stiles pushes until Derek is on his back, kissing his face and lips slowly.  He takes him apart like Derek did to him the first time he bottomed - licks into his body until he's a wreck, fingers him gently and thouroughly then rocks into him deep and long.  He leverages his hips until he finds the perfect spot that has Derek gasping and arching beautifully beneath him.  Then, he tenderly holds on while he ruins him for everyone else.

It's not until they've finished and are laying in a sated pile on the bed that Derek speaks.  "I've killed before, but I've never been so gone that I lost myself like that. It scares me."

"Mitchem was an asshole who wouldn't take the hint and leave.  You tried, Der."  He strokes a hand down his lover's back.  "Your pack is safe because of you.   _I'm_ safe."

Derek whines and presses closer to him.  "I'm sorry."

"For what?"  When Derek doesn't say anything, Stiles maneuvers them until he can look Derek in the eyes.  "Don't you ever apologize for being who you are, Derek.  You saved my life, the pack's lives, your mother's land....you were a hero.  You don't scare me.  I love you."

Silent tears course down Derek's cheeks and he pushes against Stiles hard. "Thank you."

They stay together like that for hours and Stiles can't think of a better place to be.

 


	27. Reversed

"This is new," Stiles gasps, staring up at Derek with wide eyes.

Derek hisses, arches his back, then presses downward a little more.  He rocks his hips as he descends and lets out a whoosh of breath as he gets closer to the base of Stiles's cock. 

Stiles tugs experimentally at the silky ties that bind him to the chair.  They're loose enough for him to escape, but he doesn't want to.  He knows this is something that's difficult for Derek to process and he's ready to give him some better memories regarding restraints.  

He pants as Derek completes his descent and rests briefly on his lap.  "You alright?" 

Derek's eyes are almost all black with desire.  "Yeah," he says like a prayer.  "You're perfect."

Stiles wiggles a bit and smiles as Derek moans.  "You feel amazing."

Then, Derek starts moving - slowly at first, but gaining momentum as he finds his prostate with the end of Stiles's cock.  "Baby, please..."

"Please what?"  Stiles licks a stripe up Derek's neck, biting down gently on the skin behind his ear.  Derek shudders and grinds down harder.

"I need you to..."

He's whining and moving his hips in desperation,  but Stiles can't figure out what he needs.  "Need me to what, Der?"  He rocks his own hips upward on the next downward slide and delights in the blurt of precum from Derek's cock.  "Tell me what you need."

"I need you to hold me," he groans, eyes wild.  "Fuck me, Stiles."

The flash of red behind the hazel touches just the right button in Stiles brain.  He finds himself twisting and ripping his arms from their restraints and gripping Derek's thighs tightly with both hands.  His hips move brutally and the chair squeaks in protest.  

On the next hard thrust up, Derek sighs and starts to tip backwards, cock wet and angry red.  Stiles moves quickly to catch him.  "I've got you, sweetheart," he whispers.  Derek cries out and a tear escapes his eye as his whole body relaxes into Stiles.  It's beautiful....

They're both on the floor and Stiles is rutting into Derek with no finesse, no rhythm.....

Derek's high-pitched scream sounds almost like a howl and Stiles can't contain himself as they both spill easily and noisily.  

"I think I can safely say that you're okay with scarves."

Derek hums and gathers Stiles into his arms sleepily.  "Only with you."


	28. Dos and Don'ts

"Make sure he's home sometime this weekend," John says gruffly.  "I swear he doesn't even live here anymore."

"Sure I do, Dad.  The laundry hamper and water bill can attest to the fact that I live here sometimes."

John rolls his eyes but sends a wink Derek's way when Stiles turns around and swings his duffle in the backseat of the car.  "Yeah, yeah.  You'll probably use more of my water and laundry soap when you go to college..."

Stiles pauses with one leg in the Camero.  His dad and Derek are laughing, but Stiles can't move.  He's not thought this far ahead.  

"What's up?" Derek murmurs in his ear as he passes him.  

"College."

Derek looks over the roof of the car at him.  "What about it?"

"I..."

"Get in and we'll work it out, yeah?"

They're quiet on the drive to the loft, but Stiles's mind is whirring a mile a minute.  Derek's palm rests solidly on his knee as they pull into the parking lot.  "You're freaking out."

"What are we going to do?"

"About what?"

"College?"

Derek's eyebrows do a complicated twist and wiggle before settling in a confused arch.  "Have you been looking into places you want to go?"

"It's practically required junior year so you can take the SAT and start tours and.....shit, Derek, you know what I mean!"

"I really don't."

"I've always wanted to go into law enforcement and there's a program in Boston that looks amazing...."

"But?"

"But I don't want to leave."

Derek sighs.  "You sound like Laura."

"I thought-"

"She always wanted to talk about going away - wanted to travel, to study, to live her own life.  But when push came to shove, she really didn't want to leave us behind."  Derek squeezes Stiles's knee softly.  "I pushed her to go after the fire."

"My dad will be alone."

"Not true.  I'll stick around."

"But I don't want to leave you, either!"  Stiles feels his chest tightening and his breath becoming labored.  "Derek-"

"Breathe," Derek commands, Alpha voice vibrating through the car.  Wolf or not, Stiles's body responds and his lungs release slightly.  He wheezes a bit and clasps onto Derek's hand.  

"I love you."

"I love you, too.  But I'll be here when you come back.  It's your turn to shine.  I won't take that from you."

"You can't come with me?"

"You saw Mitchem.  He's only one of many who want my mother's land.  And I'm not sure I'd be out of your way when you need to study."

"But what if-"

"We have a year.  A lot can happen in a year."

"Are you saying..."

Derek pulls Stiles to his chest as best he can across the console.  "Let's go in and relax.  We don't have to decide anything right now or even in the next month."

Stiles nods silently.  "Okay."

"Good."  Derek takes the duffle from the backseat, helps Stiles upstairs, then spends most of the night rubbing his back to soothe his nerves.  "I'm not going anywhere," he whispers once Stiles has fallen asleep. "Don't forget about me when you go, though."


	29. Blurred Lines

"So, Derek," John says over dinner one evening, "Stiles says he's not quite sure what to call you."

Derek frowns.  "Call me?"

"You know....friend? Boyfriend? Lover?"

Stiles immediately chokes on his tea.  "Dad!"

"This isn't really a conversation I want to have either, Stiles, but you've been wandering around talking to yourself about it for weeks and I'm wondering about it myself."  John turns back to Derek.  "So....?"

"Uh..."

"Maybe Derek and I need to have this conversation in private," Stiles says rapidly.  "After dinner."

John sighs.  "Fine.  But could you report back?  I've got some vested interest in his answer."

~*~

"Boyfriend, right?"

Stiles snorts from where he's sitting at the computer, googling relationship statuses.  "That's the term I was thinking, but Lydia told me a few weeks ago that we can't just jump into boyfriend status.  She gave me this website that explains everything...."

"That's stupid."

"Apparently there are rules for dating."  Stiles swivels around on his desk chair to face Derek.  "Here we go!"  He pushes the monitor so they both can see.  "Huh.  So, first there's talking." Stiles reads the description and laughs. "Texting, calling....huh. Nope.  That's not it."

"Friends with benefits?" Derek reads aloud.  His face looks pained.  "That's not us.  We have an emotional attachment that's more romantic than just friends. Right?"

"Definitely."  Stiles scrolls down.  "Facebook official.  Do you even  _have_ Facebook?"

"No." 

"Boyfriend/girlfriend."  Stiles whoops.  "See, we can jump right into that one!  It's the one that fits best.  I mean," he pauses as he scrolls, "we aren't engaged, so..."

"They're missing one."

"Missing one?"

Derek blushes. "Well, I guess there's not really a werewolf's guide to dating...."

Stiles touches his neck, where the repeated bite marks have left tiny scars.  He shivers as his fingers trace them.  When he looks at Derek, he can see his eyes darkening with each pass of fingertips.  "Oh...."

"You're mine," Derek growls lowly, leaning down and licking lightly where Stiles's fingers have been.  

Stiles groans.  "You are a bad, bad man.  My dad is downstairs."

"Hasn't stopped you before...."

"Yeah, but he wants a report about what we've decided.  I don't know that he wants a live performance of it."

Derek rumbles in his chest and pushes away from Stiles.  "Okay.  But later."

"I thought you said that the biting thing doesn't mean what it did 100 years ago...."

"Doesn't mean that I don't feel it in my bones."

"Fuck," Stiles breathes out.  "Not fair.  I tell you we can't do anything and you're still....ugh...."

"Tell your dad we're boyfriends and we're going to see a movie."

"Oooo...which movie?"

Derek quirks an eyebrow at him.  "That was a euphemism."

"Big words...."

"Let's go.  Now."

"Yes, sir." 

Stiles has to take a few minutes to calm himself when his response makes Derek whimper. They rush downstairs to tell the sheriff and then sprint to the Camaro to relieve the tension. 

For the most part, John doesn't seem surprised at the answer he's given, either, but his own inner Lydia monologue has been playing over and over for a while, so he asks, "So what should I call them then: Sterek or Halinski? I'm not sure which sounds more Brangelina...."

 


	30. The Last Time

"Derek, please...."

"Are you sure you want to do it this way?  I mean, don't get me wrong...I love this, but..."

"Fuck me," Stiles breathes out.  He spreads his legs farther and squirms on the bed.  "I mean it.  I want it."

Derek buries his face in Stiles's neck as he pushes inside him, long and slow.  They both cry out when he's seated fully.  "Fuck, I love you," Derek murmurs against his skin.  

"I love you, too.  Now, can we get to the fucking?"

"Impatient..."

Derek's hips move fluidly as he thrusts into Stiles.  Each pass, he gets closer to the perfect spot and Stiles's moaning gets higher pitched as they go.  He knows he's hit the right spot when Stiles gasps and clings to him, blunt nails digging into his back and heels into his thighs.

"Right there, huh, baby," Derek coos.  "I'll take care of you.  Don't worry."

Then, he's thrusting with more of a purpose, not always hitting that sensitive spot, but making sure to pointedly do so every so often.  Stiles is a strung out, mewling mess below him.  His cock is drenched in precum and his eyes have rolled back into his head.  White teeth hold his bottom lip captive as he groans in pleasure.  Every once in a while, he'll gasp and arch his back perfectly.  Derek's never felt so alive.

He leans down and takes hold of his claiming spot with his mouth.  He sucks at the skin, happy when there's a deep red welt left behind.  He can smell Stiles getting closer and closer to the edge, so he allows fangs to drop and one to pierce his favorite spot lightly.  

Stiles screams as he cums.

Derek doesn't even have to move anymore to reach completion - Stiles's body is nearly convulsing around his and he can simply let the boy take what he wants while Derek spills inside him.  

They lay together for a while, Derek suckling at his mark and Stiles dozing in bliss.  Finally, though, he whacks Derek across the back.

"Now all the pictures are going to be ruined!"

"Huh?"

Stiles pushes Derek off and runs to the bathroom.  He's inside for a little while before Derek hears him shriek.  "Dude!"

"What?"

"My shirt isn't going to hide this!" Stiles gestures at his neck, where the purplish hickey is vivid and large - almost the size of Derek's whole mouth.  

"Oops?"

"Oops?  You're gonna think oops when you have to explain this to my dad.  And the guys at the station are going to give me so much crap.  The preacher!!!  I can't face the preacher!"

Derek wraps his arms around Stiles and smiles.  "It's fine.  Everything's going to be fine.  Believe me."  He presses a soft kiss to his mark, feeling his wolf satisfied within him.  "Maybe we should call Lydia or Allison to come help cover it for today, though."

"You think?  I swear, Derek Hale...."

"Uh, uh.  Leave those words for the ceremony, Sergeant Stilinski." 

Stiles melts into his fiance's arms and takes a breath. "Fine....but I promise you now that tonight, I'm gonna give you a hickey.  And I'm gonna keep giving you one until I'm satisfied it sticks."  He bites playfully at Derek's throat.  When Derek starts to touch him with intent again, he backs away, though.  "Nope.  We don't have time to do it again.  Wedding starts in an hour and we're kind of important."

"I love you, soon-to-be Mr. Stilinski-Hale."

"I love you, too."

 


End file.
